Friendships in uncommon places
by sherlocks-skeletal-warlock
Summary: Prompt 67: Snow. When Pavel meets an odd but kindly-looking boy on the steps of Moscow's Intellectual Library, he may have found a new friend... One shot. Crossover. No shipping.


A/N: Sorry, dear readers, college is still a nightmare and Welcome to Night Vale is distracting. This may not be everyone's cup of tea but hey. I'm not really sure if the relationship is platonic or not but it was meant as platonic. Read as you like. Eduard is not human but it makes little difference.

Friendships in uncommon places

The common place nature of the fat frozen flakes of water soothed Pavel to no end. After the tragedy of Vulcan and the empty, long ride home, the young Russian needed the normality of his icy home. It really was no surprise that it was snowing in January. That was just right. As he began to climb the frozen steps to the Moscow Intellectual Library, Pavel rubbed his gloved hands together, desperately trying to conserve warmth. But as he reached the 52nd step, he came across a boy, no older than he was, sat huddled over a battered copy of Animal Farm. The text was in English but Pavel had read it in Russian several years previous, despite the lack of good translation. It didn't paint Russia in a good light, the navigator mused as he paused by the boy, asking in rapid Russian,

"Do you like it?" The boy's head snapped up, revealing a pair of deep navy eyes, framed with square glasses.

"H-Huh?"

"Do you like it? Animal Farm?"

"Oh, yes, yes. This is the second time I have read it, although, it has been a very long time since I last did," he replied in accented Russian. Closing the book, he smiled up at Pavel and rubbed his hands together. Pavel grinned back and sat down beside the boy, holding out a gloved hand.

"Pavel Chekov." The bespectacled boy shook, firmly.

"Eduard von Bock."

"It's good to meet you... why are you not inside? It is snowing." Pavel pointed out but Eduard just laughed softly. It was a nice sound.

"Snowing? Perhaps, but it is not that cold. Moscow is rather far south compared to..." He trailed off like he was unsure whether or not to divulge the information to Pavel. The young Russian understood this reaction all too well, the cynical, untrusting nature that came from victims of abuse. "A-anyway, the librarian doesn't like me, so I have to sit out here," the bespectacled boy finished quickly.

"Doesn't like you? Why not?"

"Xenophobic. But at least I can take out books to read out here..." Slowly, Edward slipped the book into his coat, smiling faintly. Pavel's eyes narrowed in a frown.

"Xenophobia is uncommon in this age. You are not Russian?" Pavel could have told that from the way that the boy spoke the Slavic language.

"Estonian," Eduard responded, with a small shrug. "But I lived in Russia for seventy- uh, a long time." And now, Pavel was a little suspicious. This Estonian boy cleared had a lot more to his story than he was willing to share just now and... wait a second, he had frostbite on his fingers.

"Well, Eduard, would you like to come and get some coffee with me? As you have frostbite on your fingers and my home is not far." Eduard blinked surprisedly and clamped his hands under his arms in a weak attempt to conserve warmth.

"Ah-h, thank you. That would be good." Pavel chuckled at the response from the boy and held out a hand. Shyly smiling, the Estonian took the navigator's hand and allowed himself to be pulled up to his feet so they could head down the street. Pavel had always enjoyed the fact that his tiny flat was not far from the library... okay, maybe he had chose this flat in the centre of Moscow over a much bigger one on the outskirts because of the library. But, hey, he was curious about everything in the world and beyond. It was why he had joined Starfleet after all.

The Russian led the frozen Estonian boy up to the flat, thanking a god he didn't believe in for the working lift. It then took Pavel several minutes to locate his keys and unlock the door because of his cold, stiff fingers. A thought suddenly occurred to him and he turned to Eduard.

"Hey, how long were you sat out there?" The navigator stuck to Russian, nervous about his accented English and Eduard did not appear to have any qualms about it. It took the bespectacled boy a few seconds to answer.

"Uh, I don't know. Perhaps an hour?" Pavel gaped. Eduard wore no gloves and yet in those sub-zero temperatures, sat for over an hour. It was no wonder he was frostbitten.

"Let's get you some coffee and some warmth, okay?" The Russian heaved open the frozen door and let the Estonian into his little apartment. The heating was not on, so Pavel saw to that first before going to put the kettle on.

"Is black coffee okay?" Eduard glanced up from where he had been admiring the flat and nodded quickly.

"That would be lovely, thank you." Soon enough, Pavel had Eduard wrapped in a fleece blanket, in front of the radiator, clutching a cup of hot black coffee. He sat beside him, smiling a little at the chilled boy beside him. They had been sitting quietly for a few minutes, warming up after the chill from outside, when Eduard spoke,

"I'm sorry that you didn't get to go to the library." Pavel blinked. He had completely forgotten that that was what he had gone out for this morning. He shrugged contently.

"I can go again. It is no problem. Besides, it was just an excuse to leave the house, you know." Eduard gave him a sheepish smile and nodded.

"Yeah. I do like the library here. I often come when I'm in Russia."

"Do you live in Moscow then?"

"No, no..." Eduard's voice grew misty and warm as he reminisced. "I live in Tallinn. But I am here on business for a few months. International relations." It barely took Pavel a second to pinpoint Tallinn as the capital of Estonia and frowned at his last statement. International relations. Was this boy, who couldn't be older than nineteen at most, a diplomat? Or a politician? But before he could voice these questions, the bespectacled boy clarified,

"I'm a diplomat. And I know, seventeen is a little young for such responsibility but I have always been good at negotiation." The tone of his voice was weary and Pavel frowned. This was the tone of a person who was fed up of having to explain why he was there because of his age and he understood that better than anyone.

"I'm a navigator in Starfleet. On the U.S.S Enterprise itself," Pavel offered quickly, trying to make Eduard see that he understood the difficulties. "Seventeen is a good age for geniuses to go for their dreams." And Eduard grinned widely and Pavel knew he had made a friend.

And so, as the sun began to set over the cold, snow-covered Moscow, the two geniuses sat against the radiator, exchanging stories and tending to frostbitten wounds. And it did not matter to them what anyone else thought of it.


End file.
